Starry Eyes and Smoggy Consciences
by Lady Blanche
Summary: Short tidbits based on randomly generated prompts. Read and review, please
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: FFFF, if I owned Hetalia I wouldn't be writing fanfiction.

Random prompts.

I was tempted into writing these after watching the Fem!Norway/Denmark shenanigans on Twitter.

You guys are awesome 333

_01. Blue_

Denmark sometimes considered telling Norway she looked good in blue.

But then he remembered that would be out of character, and make it seem like

he liked her, and that would screw up their friendship.

He wouldn't risk that friendship for anything.

Not even if it meant heartburn-like pains every time she decided to smile in his general direction.

_02. Lingering_

Denmark wondered if it was wishful thinking that her brief

touches seemed longer recently.

_03. Jeweler_

Sure, Denmark liked Norway's hands. They were smooth and pale, with long fingers.

And sometimes he had to try very hard not to imagine what they'd feel like on his abdomen.

But that didn't mean he wouldn't be freaked out if he walked in on her applying

nail jewels ever again.

_04. Slop_

She snorted loudly as he slopped beer on his new shirt.

Then she cussed out her imagination for conjuring a (totally unwanted, dammit!)

image of him taking it off.

_05. Crowing_

She groaned loudly as a rooster decided it just HAD to announce it's presence to

the whole fucking world. Norway resolved to eat chicken for all three meals that day.

"Oompf!" Something smacked her hard in the chest and pushed her back down.

….A hand.

….A hand belonging to a shoulder.

A very naked shoulder.

Which in turn led to an obnoxiously snoring Dane.

….Fuck.

And why the fuck couldn't she remember what the fuck happened to lead to this?

That was so fucking unfair!

….Not that she'd want to remember something so horribly disgusting.

_06. Aftereffect_

Of all things, a day at the beach? In fucking swimsuits? She hissed quietly and

clenched her fists to keep them from trembling. God, she'd kill him for making

all those (disgusting) thoughts of him sliding his hands over her arms and groaning

under her kiss

and

and

Wait, what was she talking about?

…..She was really going to kill him next time she saw him.

_07. Lettering_

Norway frowned thoughtfully as she made some revisions to the paper.

_Isolde_

_Inghild_

_Immerlin_

She was quite sure she wanted her official, citizen of Norway name to start with _I._

"Isolde" eyed the man in the chair across from her.

"What do you think?"

"...Isabelle."

"I'm serious, Denmark."

"So am I!"

"..."

"...Fine, Isolde. That's the answer you wanted, right?"

_08. Distorter_

Norway wobbled as the ground wriggled under her feet.

Well.

She could certainly get used to this position.

"...N-Norway, get off, I can't breathe."

Norway didn't think to question the hitch to his breath or the flush on his cheeks at the time.

Later, though, she tied it to a chair and grilled it endlessly.


	2. Chapter 2

I'M ON A FUCKING (OOC) ROLL.

I barely ship them, but this is starting to become so addictive.

Shorter this time.

Again, I don't own anything.

_09. Marks_

He had scars. (She did too, of course.) Small scars, large scars, jagged scars, straight scars.

From battles, mostly. A long one where a lance had grazed his back.

A deep one across his shoulder from a rather tall swordsman.

She liked them, somehow. It didn't make any sense, she knew.

They were signs of pain. Of him getting hurt.

Pretty much her least favorite thing in the world.

Maybe she liked them because they were like signs of his determination

to stay alive. God, if he died, she might just commit suicide for the sole purpose

of beating the shit out of him in the afterlife.

_10. Delicious_

Norway took great, sadistic delight in his wincing as she made a small theatre production

out of eating her pastry, complete with a full soundtrack of moaning.

_11. Astronomer_

Four blue eyes looked up at the sky.

"That's a lion, for sure."

"Don't be ridiculous. It's a bear. No mane."

"So? Girl lions don't have manes."

"It's also lacking a tail."

"Bullshit, the tail's right there."

"If that's a tail, I have a dick."

"I always thought you were too ballsy to be a girl."

_Smack._

"What the fuck? That was practically a compliment."

". . . ."

You thought _Marks _would be about hickeys, didn't you, you peeeeerv.


End file.
